The reeds in Kaito's mouth dragged in the snow, scoring snake-like paths behind him across the mark of his gentle step. Easthollow lay in serenity, largely quiet, and still. He could only really hear the song of the winter birds, who called to one another in a vibrant array, a chorus that usually stirred his heart and willed his tongue to sing along. No voice came from his mouth today. His breath fled from the corners of his mouth, and touched the bitter air like wraiths.
@Arlette had wanted to help him today, but he had sent her away. Until tomorrow, he'd said, with the half-truth that he had preparations to make for their next lesson in healing. Since Vespera's exile, he walked on stilts around her, fearful of Greyback, the anger in his eyes. Fearful that ire would turn on him. Distance would keep them safe. Arlette had shown that, when she'd shied away from him at the meeting that day.
The sound of counting touched his ears, and Kaito turned to listen.
"... a'hunnerd fourteen, a'hunnerd fifteen..." and he saw, between the thinning trees, and walking his way, a stranger clad in rust and earthen brown. She didn't seem to see him, seemingly too focused on the ground. Kaito watched a moment longer with a tip of his head, before he called out a muffled,
"Whaadryou," before that garble reminded him of the reeds in his mouth, and he let them fall to the ground,
"Sorry, ah, sorry ma'am - what're you counting?" If she'd been any lower than a'hunnerd twenty, maybe he wouldn't have asked.